On the one hand, King Lear teaches us, "the worst is not / So long as we can say 'This is the worst.'"
On the other hand, I'm pretty confident that Kira is the worst poaster within the realm of human possibility.
You know, I'd never actually thought about this before, but I've never been to a wine bar (as opposed to a restaurant) with an exciting, impressive wine list. It's always just a matter of some decent affordable wines by the glass, maybe a couple of interesting things that catch my eye, etc. What's a genuinely great wine bar in Manhattan? (And is having a great selection by the glass a hallmark of a good wine bar?)
Several years ago at a popular wine bar in Brooklyn, I got into a heated discussion of how if I were ever to have a son, I'd name him Diomedes. Some patrons complained and the bartender had to ask me to quiet down.
Picked up something called Okto from Lyrarakis Wines purely on a lark. The bottle says it's 50% kotsifali, 20% mandilari, and 30% syrah. I have no idea what that means, aside from the syrah. I mostly bought it because it's from Crete and I wanted to drink like the cretin I am.
Perfectly tasty in a rustic way.
So in the future, lock all the stalls and then climb over/under the doors. Wait until this guy needs to take a shit. Comedy will ensue.
Next phase: install speakers in the empty but locked stalls and from remote locations, tell him, "Nope, there's nobody in here."
Yeah, it's difficult not only because we seem to want different things now but also because the whole experience remains a mystery. It's impossible to know how to relate to all the stories that are out there about parenting (happy, unhappy, and everything in between); they're certainly useful but it's hard to know exactly how to use them.